


Type

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22095868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Hank’s suspicious.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 5
Kudos: 77





	Type

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Connor keeps his eyes forward at all times, because Hank’s eyes are aged and fading, and the curtain of water through the drenched windshield must make it all the harder for him to see. Connor has no trouble surveying the scene before them. He cuts through the heavy rain to the backdoor of the apartment building where their suspect will eventually have to leave. They don’t have a warrant to burst in and apprehend the deviant sympathizer, but sooner or later, they’ll have their clue. Connor has all the time in the world to wait it out. Hank doesn’t, but Connor reasons that as long as Hank’s sitting in an official stake out, he’s _not_ drinking himself to death or playing Russian roulette. It’s only logical for the two of them to be together as much as possible. 

They mostly sit in silence. Connor judges it to be marginally more comfortable than when they started first, if his social judgment parameters are working. Then out of the blue, Hank grunts, “You’re not a Traci, right?”

Social norm dictates that Connor should turn his head to Hank, but he doesn’t, because the mission comes first. He rudely answers, “Excuse me?”

“I still can’t believe they sent me a freakin’ android,” Hank grumbles. He kicks back in the drivers seat, forcing his chair to groan and bend to accommodate his weight. Connor’s working on that too—he’s already formulated a more healthy meal plan. “If this is all some weird practical joke by Fowler—”

“I am not a Traci.” Hank already knows _exactly_ what he is, and it’s absurd to think otherwise. But then, humans are absurd. Hence an android presence in the police force. After a long pause during which Hank seems unappeased, Connor adds, “I am, however, fully anatomically correct and capable of providing a pleasurable experience if that would help you accept my partnership easier.”

“What?” Hank instantly snaps, head swiveling around to Connor even though all it would take is a split second for their mark to make a swift exit. “No, hell no, don’t even think about it—”

Noting the strength of the response, Connor cuts in: “Understood. You’re asexual. I will respect that in the future.”

“ _What?_ ” Hank splutters, “No, that’s not what I—fuck—never mind...”

Connor can’t resist surmising aloud, “You do enjoy sex. Noted.”

“For fuck’s sake.” Hank shakes his head and mutters, “I hate you.”

But there’s less bile in it than there once was. Out the corner of his eye, Connor judges the emotion in Hank’s reaction, and, like usual, he thinks Hank may have actually _enjoyed_ their conversation. Despite his protests, Hank usually seems amused when Connor’s more difficult. Sometimes he thinks Hank _wants_ him to be a deviant. 

He won’t go that far. But he’ll indulge in teasing banter for the sake of Hank’s pleasure. He’d indulge a lot more than that. 

But their suspect bolts out the back before Connor can press the subject, and the two of them burst out into the rain.


End file.
